


Gash

by AutisticWriter



Series: One-Word Whump Prompts [11]
Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Blood and Injury, Car Accidents, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Secret Relationship, Whump, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Mal worries when Ray gets into a car accident, and finds Ray at the scene bloodied but doing okay.
Relationships: Mal Carruthers/Ray Pinker
Series: One-Word Whump Prompts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871002
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Gash

After a trip down to Tech Services (a place far less interesting with Ray out on a case), Mal takes a slow climb of the stairs, stretching his arms behind his beck as he walks. Hoping for a break, Mal wanders through the double doors—and flinches when Leary appears out of nowhere, focused entirely on Mal. His break is over before it began, he guesses.

“Oh, Mal, there you are,” Leary says, grabbing his arm. “You’re needed at a crash site—patrolmen said two vics are dead.”

Mal resists the urge to comment he knows already, having heard this literally four minutes ago when it went out over police radio. As far as he knows, four cars collided at an intersection, and the traffic boys and the fire department were called out to deal with it.

“Fine, I’ll get going,” Mal says, totally having expected he would have to get involved. Is there ever a non-fatal car crash in this city?

“Oh, and just so you’re expecting it,” Leary adds. “One of the survivors is Ray.”

Mal freezes, his stomach cramping, but manages to keep any shock from showing on his face. Ray, who only just left to help some Ad Vice guys on a case, was caught in that big crash? He has so many questions (is Ray conscious? How severe are his injuries? Will he recover?), but Mal doesn’t let his professionalism slip, simply nodding.

Leary pats his shoulder, a knowing expression shining behind his sad smile. “I just thought it’d be better for you to be forewarned. Keep a cool head at the scene, you know?”

“Thanks,” Mal says, swallowing back more questions.

He can find out more at the scene.

\---

Like all huge crashes, the site resembles some horrific battlefield from the war, mangled metal that used to be bits of cars littering the ground, and steering wheels and parts of shattered windshields stained red with the victims’ blood. However, none of this fazes Mal, who has dealt with the foul messes left behind by serial killers for so long it is now just normal for him. Even the sight of dead bodies on stretchers doesn’t make him flinch, especially as a cursory glance shows they probably died on impact.

Mal’s focus goes straight to the ambulances parked near the wreckage, two of which have unconscious, blood-covered victims being loaded into them, whilst another medical officer sits with the rest of the victims, treating their far less serious injuries. And the face of one patient stands out through the blood on his skin, and Mal hurries over as fast as he can without it seeming weird.

Because Ray Pinker lies on a stretcher, his clearly broken leg held in a splint, and a bandage wrapped around his head. Considering the congealing blood caking his eyelid and the left side of his face, and the red patch already soaking through the bandage, a nasty gash must cover his forehead. And both injuries explain why, when he notices Mal approaching, Ray stares at him with unfocused eyes and a goofy smile crosses his face.

“Mal!” Ray slurs, obviously high on morphine. “Thought I’d s-see you here.”

The medical officer turns his head, and spots Mal stood beside his prone patient. “Oh, hey there, Coroner,” he says. “Mr. Pinker here took a shard of glass to the face, but I think he’ll be okay.”

Ray grins, such an unbelievable dumbass when drugged up, and Mal has to fight to keep a fond, if exasperated, smile off his face. “That’s good, r-right, Mal?”

“Yes, Ray, it is indeed,” Mal says, keeping his tone appropriate for a conversation with a colleague and nothing else. But some of his genuine, overwhelming relief seeps through in his voice, and Ray’s smile softens into one of real, albeit groggy, affection. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get on with my actual job.”

And as Ray laughs like he told a joke, Mal walks away from his thankfully okay partner and heads off to inspect the bodies of the victims who weren’t so lucky.


End file.
